Deaf Harry
by DeafHarry
Summary: Voldemort's curse also made Harry Deaf, how does he deal with it? Can DeafHarry overcome Voldermort? This fanfiction is unique. The story has the same plot as J. K. Rowling's, but the way that Harry behaves is different. And this is not a continuous story, but a set of scenes chosen to illustrate how DeafHarry would behave differently.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

Voldemort's curse also made Harry Deaf, how does he deal with it?

This fanfiction is unique. The story is the same as J. K. Rowling's, but the way that Harry behaves is different. And this is not a continuous story, but a set of scenes chosen to illustrate how DeafHarry would behave differently.

The first scene is short, more is coming soon.

Going to the zoo

"Bad news, Vernon", she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction. Realizing that she was talking about him, Harry scrambled to switch on his hearing aids.

It hadn't been until Harry had started school that anyone had noticed that he was Deaf. The Dursleys simply thought that Harry was thick, and Vernon liked to joke that even Grunning's drills couldn't get into Harry's head.

For a while the school believed the Dursely's story that Harry was mentally retarded. But when Harry showed flair in Math his teacher insisted, despite the Dursley's protests, on taking him to an audiologist. A sound test had confirmed that Harry was Profoundly Deaf and he had been issued with hearing aids.

With Harry growing fast his ear molds no longer snugly fit his ear. Vernon dealt with the whines and whistles of Harry's hearing aids in a brutal manner: Harry was forbidden to wear his hearing aids at 4 Privet Drive. But since Petunia was obviously talking about him Harry decided it was worth taking a risk.

He switched on his hearing aids on time to hear his aunt say "Now what?"

Harry didn't bother to turn his head to see Vernon's reply. Years of frustration trying to lipread Vernon's big, droopy moustache had taught Harry that there was no point, and Harry didn't want to miss what Petunia said next.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy", and after a pause Harry caught her say "on vacation in Majorca".

Harry's brain scrambled to work out what was happening. They were obviously talking about him, but why? Then it twigged, they were trying to find somebody to take care of during Dudley's birthday celebrations. Harry momentarily wondered what had happened to that old woman who usually looked after him who reeked of cabbage and forced him to look at photographs of her cats. Harry had never picked up her name.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (maybe he could sneak a go on Dudley's computer).

As per usual, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley acted as if he hadn't said anything. Just as Harry couldn't understand Vernon, Vernon couldn't understand Harry. Despite the best efforts of his English Teacher Harry's speech was thick and you had to pay attention to understand what he said. Rather than give Harry this careful attention Vernon behaved as Harry never said anything.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo", said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car."

In the periphery of Harry's vision he saw that Dudley was pretending to cry. Harry clenched his lips in frustration for it was impossible to lipread Dudley when he was crying and so he couldn't know what false charges that he needed to defend himself against.

Harry was preparing himself to deny whatever was going to come next when Dudley stopped crying, Petunia left the room, and after a few beats returned with Piers and his mother.

Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursley's car with Piers and Dudley. Noone bothered to tell Harry what was happening, and so he had no idea that they were on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Some of my writing is subtle. J. K. Rowling wrote '_soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage_', but because Harry's Deaf and I'm implicitly writing from his perspective I wrote '_soon the hut was full of the smell of sizzling sausage_'. As I said, _subtle_. If you want to pick up everything then I suggest you read this alongside the original book.

The first few scenes are fairly slow, things will pick up speed when Harry gets on the Hogwart's Express.

Book 1, Chapter 4: Meeting Hagrid

"Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

If Vernon had been hard to lipread, the giant was impossible. His overgrown beard eclipsed his mouth, making it impossible for Harry to understand what was said. Harry had to strain with effort to catch the last words _'Hogwarts'_, everything else fluttered out of his grasp.

Trying to make sense of this Harry wondered if Hogwarts was the giant's last name, surely it couldn't be anybody's first name?

The giant held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm, before again saying something and then rubbing his hands together.

Harry watched on in disbelief as the giant bent down over the fireplace, and drew back a second later to reveal a roaring fire. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

As far back as he could remember Harry had been able to intuitively assess people's intentions. He could often tell when Dudley and his gang were planning to bully him, sometimes before they were even conscious of what they wanted to do. He guessed it was because he made more attention to people's body language than most. When the giant had entered the tiny shack Harry hadn't been scared. His sixth sense had told him that he was safe around the giant.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little.

Harry noticed that there was an exchange of words between the giant and somebody else in the room, probably Vernon, before the giant passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes of the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, he said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Again, try as he might, Harry missed everything except the word _'Hogwarts'. _There was a pause in the conversation as the giant looked at Harry expectantly.

From years of experience Harry knew what this meant. He had just been asked a question, but he had no idea what he had been asked.

"er … yes" guessed Harry, hoping that it was a closed question and that his answer made sense. The giant didn't notice Harry's uncertainty and was pleased with his answer, beaming a huge grin. Harry was content to watch the happy giant talk animatedly, repeatedly punctuating his unintelligible monologue with the word _'Hogwarts'. _Harry decided that Hogwarts couldn't the giant's name because it wouldn't make sense for the giant to be constantly referring to himself.

Whatever Hogwarts was from the giants large gestures and his delighted tone Harry could tell that is was large and wonderful place. Hogwarts must be a magical to visit, Harry mused to himself.

As if on cue Hagrid pulled out the letter from one of the pockets in his coat, and Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbeldore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, _

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Ah, Hogwarts was a school! And what was this about witchcraft and wizardry? Questions exploded inside Harry's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, "does this mean I'm a wizard?"

The giant's nod of the head answered his question. As Harry reeled from what he had discovered he paid little attention to a growing argument between the giant and Vernon. Harry was suddenly startled out of his thoughts when he heard Uncle Vernon yell, "I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" His voice rumbled through the wooden floorboards, the vibrations helping Harry to make out what was said.

Harry violently jerked his head in the giant's direction as the giant thundered in response "NEVER - INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBELDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!" Each word jolted with sharp force through the floorboards to Harry's feet and for the first time in his life he could clearly understand what was said.

The giant brought the umbrella swishingi down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at the giant and slammed the door behind them.

Harry felt an unprecedented warm glow of happiness. He understood little of what had just happened - there was a school called Hogwarts, and he was apparently a wizard. He had so many questions, but right now he didn't need any answers. For the first time in his life he felt completely safe. And looking at the giant's rueful face his intuition told him that he hadn't just met a lifelong friend but somebody that he could call family.

The giant took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry. Harry gratefully lied down and pulled the coat over his shoulders, suddenly overcome with exhaustion and briefly noticed the movement of an animal or two in one of the pockets of the coat before falling fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

How's this for irony? Harry's Deafness leads to an advantageous chance encounter.

Meeting Olivander 

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his finger. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. The giant whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well … how curious … how very curious …"

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, and although Mr. Ollivander was now muttering Harry could still make out the words "curious … curious …"

Mr. Ollivander was one of the rare people that Harry could understand without effort. Not only did he have no beard obstructing his mouth and keep his hands away from his face as he talked, but also his speech was just right. It was slow enough for Harry to follow, but not too slow that it would be unnatural, and it was a little enunciated, but not so much so to be freakish.

"Sorry," said Harry, "but _what's_ curious?"

Mr. Olivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar."

"Sir, what do you mean?" Harry asked, "I got my scar in the car crash that killed my parents."

Mr. Ollivander frowned at Harry, burrowing his eyebrows. "Mr. Potter, has nobody told you how you got your scar?" he asked dumbfounded. "Hasn't Hagrid told you?", he asked glancing in the giant's direction.

Harry reddened. "Sir," he said tapping his hearing aids, "I'm Deaf … I read lips to understand what people say." Harry paused to glance at Hagrid, whose mouth had dropped open, and confessed "and I don't understand what Hagrid says. I can't read his lips you see. I didn't even know his name was Hagrid until you told me."

Mr. Ollivander paused for a moment to digest this news. Then with purpose he declared "you need to know what happened to you, and the sooner the better. Come on, lets go to my office." With tact he turned to Hagrid and said "I'm just going to give Harry a tour of my office, is that okay?".

Hagrid had gone beetroot with embarrassment and only managed to mumble "yes, of course" before Mr. Ollivander placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him gently to the back of the shop. They then eased through a narrow corridor to a cramped office that was stacked with boxes ceiling high. There was just enough room for a desk and two chairs on opposite sides.

Harry felt his shoulder being gently pushed downwards and so sat down. Mr. Ollivander took the other chair and then, after a brief cough, he began. As Harry listened in shock and horror, Mr. Ollivander narrated the story of Voldemort, Mr. Ollivander had refused to say the name out loud and instead had spelt it out with his wand, his parents, and his scar. Harry numbly realized that this was why everyone had been congratulating him in the Leaky Bucket.

"But" Harry said, after Mr. Ollivander had finished his story, "how does that explain that our wands are brothers?"

Mr. Ollivander gazed into Harry's eyes for several moments, as if weighing whether to answer his question. Then he replied "each wand is tuned to a particular form of magic. Those that have an aptitude for charms, like your mother, will be chosen by a wand that is particularly tuned to charm magic. It's much more complicated than that Mr. Potter, but that's the basic idea. Sibling wands are tuned to similar forms of magic, and so those that share sibling wands have similar magic."

He continued, warming up to the topic, "and for this reason sibling wands tend to go to twins. Why, the last pair of sibling wands went to the Weasley twins. 11 and a half inches, firm, and oak. Those were good, solid wands."

"It is most interesting" Mr. Ollivander mused, "that you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named share brother wands. This means Mr. Potter that you share the same kind of magic. This cannot be a coincidence. My guess is that somehow some of the magic of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has transferred to you."

"And this is no bad thing" Mr. Ollivander rushed to add when he saw Harry's consternation, "the magic does not make the wizard. Magic is neither good nor bad, it's how it's used that makes it so."

"In fact, I can tell you more", said Mr. Ollivander, "the magic that each wand is tuned to is determined, in part, by the nature of the magical items used to create the wand. However, there are usually many different forms for each magical item. Take the holly in your wand, there are over 50 qualities that it could represent, not all of them magical, for some of them concern your character. So knowing that you, Mr. Potter, have holly in your wand doesn't tell me anything about your kind of magic or what kind of person you are."

"However", said Mr. Olivander who then paused theatrically, "the phoenix tail feather is highly unusual. Phoenix's have only three magical properties that are relevant to wands: their tears heal those with noble intentions, they can carry immensely heavy loads, and they are immortal."

Harry was listening hard, intent on catching every word.

"These correspond with three qualities that would have caused your wand to choose you, Mr. Potter. Either you are noble, or you have immense internal fortitude, or you overriding goal in life is to become immortal. Each of these qualities are highly unusual, which is why wands with phoenix tail feathers are so rare."

"So, which is it?" Mr. Ollivander asked rhetorically, "well, Mr. Potter I don't believe in coincidences. Your mother did the noblest thing possible - she died so to save you. This is incredibly powerful magic, and I'm certain that in her sacrifice she gave you this magic."

"As I said Mr. Potter" Mr. Ollivander summed up, "the magic does not make the wizard. My guess is that your magic from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has made you a good match for the Holly in your wand, although I don't know what that magic is exactly. But it's your mother's noble magic that has made you a match for the Phoenix tail feather. You, Mr. Potter, have no need to fear that the magic from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will make you a Dark wizard."

Harry was both repulsed and delighted - despite Mr. Ollivander's explanation it was still disconcerting to imagine sharing Voldemort's magic, but it was comforting to think that something of his mother still lived on inside him.

It suddenly occurred to Harry to ask "what about _Him_ Sir? What does the phoenix's tail feather tell us about his qualities?"

Mr. Ollivander looked down at Harry with his silver eyes, "I have long wondered about this. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was great, Mr. Potter, but not noble. Oh no. And it is incredibly rare for a 11 year old to have immense strength of mind. _He _was a great wizard but no, not when he came to my shop and found his wand. That leaves only the third possibility …"

"He wanted immortality?" Harry filled in.

"Yes. And dare I say it, I suspect that he succeeded."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes." Mr. Ollivander nodded sadly. "With the exception of Albus Dumbledore you see, Voldemort was the most powerful wizard of this age. If anyone could find a way to achieve a way to conquer death it was him."

"And we should stop there. I know that this is a lot to take it and Hagrid is waiting for you outside. Before you go though I want to give you something." Mr. Ollivander took and his wand and quietly muttered a spell before opening the top drawer to his desk. He pulled out an old, dusty book and handed it over to Harry.

Harry brushed the dirt off the title to reveal the words - '_What the wand says about the wizard'_ by Arthur Ollivander.

"This book was written by my father" Mr. Ollivander explained, "you may find it helpful to learn more about the nature of the magic that you have received from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Now come with me"

Harry followed Mr. Ollivander back out to the front of the shop, back to Hagrid, whose cheeks were still burning bright beetroot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:**

The point of this fanfiction is to explore what is different for DeafHarry. For this reason I skip parts of the journey on the Hogwart's Express. A break means that I've fast-forwarded to the next relevant part of the scene.

I'm committed to completing the first book, and if there's interest I will write the full 7 books. If you enjoy what I've written please leave a review.

As I'm Profoundly Deaf writing is a difficult process. Please PM me if you want to be a beta reader. That would be such a help. This request stands up until 03/31/13.

The next chapter is going to take a while, sorry. I need to work out what's going to happen for the whole of the first book so to keep the story coherent.

Hogwart's Express

[Harry has just sat down in one of the coaches on the Hogwart's Express. The Weasley Twins are making their introductions.]

"Harry", said one of the twins, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Wait", Harry interjected, "are you the Weasley Twins?"

The twins looked at each other and grinned. "Our reputation precedes us" smiled one of the twins.

"Errr …" said Harry, "I know that this is strange to ask … but could I see your wands?"

Without questioning for a reason the twins adopted dueling stances and whipped out identical oak wands, just as Ollivander had said.

"Thanks" said Harry. "I had heard that your wands were brothers and wanted to see it for myself."

"Yeah, it's really cool" said one of the twins as they placed their wands side by side, "no one can tell who is who even when we have our wands out."

"Thanks" repeated Harry, not sure what else to say.

"It was our pleasure" said one of the twins who waved his wand with a flourish and bowed. With that the twins withdrew, sliding the compartment door shut behind them.

"What was all that about?" Ron immediately blurted out.

Harry had been aching for friendship for so long that the words quickly tumbled out of his mouth. He explained what Mr. Ollivander had told him when he had gone shopping for a wand, and then pulled out his book '_What the wand says about the wizard_' from his trunk.

"Cool" said Ron, eagerly flipping through the book, "it says that the ash in my wand could mean that I'm immune to werewolf bites, that could come in handy … or that I have aptitude at charms, fancy that … or that I have a special connection with dragons …"

"Oh … " said Ron his enthusiasm quickly deflating, "this is Charlie's wand." Ron quickly blushed, realizing the implications of what he had said, " … my family can't really … I mean they don't have … anyway, Charlie works with dragons, so I bet that's what it is".

"Because this is Charlie's wand" Ron finished lamely.

As Ron had mumbled his words Harry had only made out a couple words - "family" and "dragons" - but it was clear that Ron was embarrassed so Harry decided to change the conversation.

He took a deep breath.

This was the moment that he had been preparing for during his last month at the Dursleys - he had been having nightmares about Hogwarts. He dreamed of a dark, black place where people spoke in a foreign language that he didn't understand. More than a handful of times he had woken up in cold sweat with the image of pudgy bullies menacingly towering over him, teasing him about being Deaf.

Dudley had bullied him mercilessly for being Deaf. He delighted in mouthing rude words to Harry in the classroom, right under the teacher's nose. Although Harry's body reading skills and spatial awareness made him impossible to catch. He could read when Dudley and his gang wanted to bully him. And Harry's peripheral awareness told him when Dudley was creeping up behind him. Harry would often tease Dudley by pretending to be unaware of his approach until the last moment when he dashed away from Dudley's grasp. Minus the fighting skills and physical athleticism, Harry was a ninja, but he didn't feel like it.

He had enough of being teased, he was tired of having no friends, and he was fed up of nodding along, and saying 'yes', 'oh really' to pretend that he understood what people said to him.

Harry had long thought about how he was going to make friends at Hogwarts. He had resolved to be upfront with others that he was Deaf and to explain to them how they could help him understand what he said. During his breaks from reading his course books he had spent countless hours daydreaming about what he wanted to tell people. And now the moment had come.

"Harry?" Ron asked puzzled by his long pause.

"Ron, I didn't understand what you just. There's something that I need to tell you … I'm Deaf."

Ron gasped. "What?! You can't hear?"

"Yes" replied Harry quietly.

"But, why didn't somebody fix your ears?" gaped Ron. "There are spells for that."

This was news to Harry. "You have magic to so that I can hear? We don't have that in the Muggle world. I got two hearing aids." And Harry took out one of his hearing aids, making sure that he switched it off first so that it wouldn't wail and whistle. He handed it over to Ron. "Have a look"

Ron looked at it with astonishment. "Dad would love this" he murmured. "What is this?" he said pointing to the caramelised end of the ear mold.

"That's earwax- when you wear the ear mold for a long time they turn yellow and then brown."

"Bleaaargh" said Ron, quickly withdrawing his finger from that end of the hearing aid.

"Here is where the battery goes." And Harry pulled back the end of the hearing aid to reveal a battery in a chamber. "And I use this button to switch it on and off, and this button here to adjust the volume."

"_Wow_, that's cool" said Ron, handing back the hearing aid to Harry, who pressed the on button and then put it back in his ear.

"What's it like to be Deaf?" Ron asked intrigued.

Harry smiled. Nobody had ever asked him this question before. He launched into his long-prepared explanation.

"Well ... the way I understand people is I read lips. This is called lipreading, but it's hard. If somebody has a beard or puts their hands in front of their face, then I can't read their lips. And if somebody is eating, or talking too fast, then I can't make out what they are saying."

"So", said Ron, "you couldn't understand me because I was mumbling and you couldn't lipread."

"Exactly" said Harry pleased, who then paused to rack his his brain to remember the figure that his speech therapist had given him. "But even when I can lipread at best I get 30% of what people say. For the rest I have to be like a detective, using clues to work out what they said."

"Here's an example" continued Harry, "try and lipread what I'm saying". Harry then mouthed a monosyllabic word.

"Err ... bat" guessed Ron.

"Close. I actually said _pat_. The mouth patterns for bat and pat are identical. Watch my lips." And Harry said both words to make his point.

"Whoa! They look exactly the same!" exclaimed Ron.

"Yes" affirmed Harry, "a lot of lip patterns have more than one meaning. If you say "_I hate bats"_ then I have to work out if you are saying 'I hate bats' or 'I hate pats'. In this case it's obvious - who would say 'I hate pats'? Now try this one."

Harry mouthed out a phrase.

"Err … " said Ron embarrassed, " … I love you?"

"Haha! No!" enthused Harry, "I said '_elephant's juice'_, but it looks exactly like 'I love you'." Again Harry said the two phrases for Ron's benefit.

"Merlin's beard!" said Ron, "I want to test you … if that's okay?"

"Of course, bring it on" said Harry playfully.

Ron mouthed a phrase. "What am I saying?" said Harry as he rolled his eyes. "I mean, come on. Everyone says that the first time - that's too easy."

"Ok then ..." said Ron amazed " ... how about this?"

Harry rolled his eyes again. "This is so cool" he drawled, "that's the second thing that everyone says."

"This is so cool …" repeated Ron as his eyes went wicked and he started to grin, "can you lip read what people are saying from a long way away? That could be really useful."

"Like a spy? Well yes" said Harry returning Ron's smile, "if I know what people are talking about."

"Say we were talking about trains" said Harry gesturing around them, "then I know what kind of words to expect you to say - words like coach, train, door, luggage, seats, and so on. If I know the topic of the conversation then it's much easier to work out what they are saying."

Harry paused. "That's why it's really helpful when people tell me what they are talking about - because then I an extra clue to work out what they are saying."

"Cool" Ron mused.

Harry's face showed his total delight. While he knew that he had forgotten to explain a bunch of things - like how lipreading was more than just reading lips (it was also about reading body language and emotions) and why his voice sounded a little strange - that didn't matter. He had just made a friend. His first one. The conversation now eased back to family, but with both Harry and Ron in a happy mood.

[Hermione and Neville have entered Harry and Ron's coach searching for Neville's toad. Ron was about to teach Harry a spell.]

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then" said the girl.

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow"_

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl speaking rapidly. "Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but i was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is ..."

"Slow down will ya?" interrupted Ron. "Harry here is Deaf" he said pointing a finger at Harry, "he can't understand if you talk that fast."

Both Harry and the girl's faces went scarlet. "Oh, sorry I didn't know" rushed the girl, speaking just as fast as before out of embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm doing it again aren't I?" She took a deep breath, and then raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Are you are Harry Potter?" she asked, and Harry nodded.

"Well, I'm Hermione Granger, and _that_ makes sense" she said and then explained, "I did some extra reading over the summer and in the _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and there are a lot of wizards who go Deaf because of duels. In 1788 Albert the Strange had his ear cursed off. And in 1942 David Bellowforce's ears were blown up by Grindwald. So it fits that You-Know-Who's curse made you Deaf Harry … anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Harry had planned to thank Ron for interrupting Hermione but, as the compartment door slid shut, that was forgotten as they began to talk dramatically about the possible link between Voldemort and Harry's Deafness.

[Malfoy and his two henchmen Crabbe and Goyle enter Harry and Ron's train compartment.]

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Huh" said Harry not sure what the boy was asking.

"I'm Malfoy, are you Harry Potter?" drawled Malfoy.

"Err … what?" repeated Harry confused by the boy's drawl.

"Are you Deaf or something?" he asked rhetorically, "I said are you Harry Potter?"

Ron spoke up. "Leave him alone. Harry's Deaf and he can't understand what you are saying."

Harry felt both embarrassed and grateful that his new friend had again stood up for him.

"Deaf..." sniggered Malfoy, "you mean the great Harry Potter can't understand what I'm saying." Malfoy said. "Hahaha."

Harry stood up slowly. Rage building inside him. All the pent up pain, all the frustration at how he had been bullied by the Dudleys for being Deaf boiled to the surface. How Dudley pinched his hearing aids and hide them, and how his gang would exaggerate their faces so that he couldn't understand what they were saying. Harry was done. He wasn't going to take anymore.

"Enough" he commanded in a firm voice that made everyone jump.

Malfoy was the first to recover "or else what?" he sneered and eyed the Harry and Ron's food store. "We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Before anyone could do anything Harry whipped out his wand and began to intone forcefully the only words of magic that he knew: _"Sunshine, __daisies__, __butter__mellow__" _and he got louder with each word that he said, "TURN THIS STUPID RAT YELLOW" and pointed his wand at Malfoy's chest. In a flash Harry felt a ripple of energy rise from the floor and vibrate through his body before ejecting through his wand.

After a couple of moments Malfoy began to snicker "haha … and you don't even know any magic! Sunshine and daises, haha". Until his snickering was drowned out by Ron who was trying his hardest to stifle his laughs. "You ... are … yellow!" Ron gasped.

Malfoy had turned a bright nursery wall yellow - his bright and cheerful skin at contrast with the growing scowl on his face. He emitted a growl and then lunged at Harry, and they both tumbled over onto the seat scattering the Chocolate Frogs.

Malfoy then let out a horrible yell, Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into the boy's finger - his two henchmen backed away as Malfoy swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once.

[The Hogwart's Express is about to arrive at Hogwarts.]

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. As the boys scrambled to put on their robes Ron was still trying to reassure Harry, inbetween his fits of uncontrollable laughing where he spluttered "Malfoy! Yellow! Hahaha!" that no, Harry wouldn't be expelled for what he had done.

People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

Hagrids' big face beamed over the sea of heads. It took Harry a moment to notice the difference.

Hagrid's beard had gone. The giant looked like a totally different man, he longer looked wild and scary. Beneath Hagrid's razor cuts Harry could clearly see that the giant was blushing, but he had a broad grin, and pointed to his face. Looking really pleased with himself he shouted to Harry, vastly exaggerating each word, but Harry could still make it out, "I - shaved - my - beard - so - that - you - can - lipread!"

Harry's relief that he could now understand Hagrid was drowned out by embarrassment as the nearby first years turned to see who the giant was talking to. Hagrid quickly reclaimed control of the moment and shouted "c'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now" Firs' years follow me!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

The review's are in - your favorite character is Hagrid. I've made sure to mention him twice in this chapter.

I want to say thank you to **MirotheCat** for informing me that muggle technology doesn't work at Hogwarts. I would have missed that otherwise.

The Sorting Hat - Book 1, Chapter 7

[Harry has just entered Hogwarts.]

There was a deathly silence as Harry trooped in with the rest of the first years.

It took Harry several moments to realize that it was too silent. He hadn't heard the opening of the doors of Hogwarts. Now that he thought about it he couldn't even hear the quiet, persistent whine of his hearing aids.

As the group was herded into the Great Hall Harry failed to see that Malfoy had returned to his normal color, except for a tinge of red anger, and was scowling at him. Harry was too anxious about his sudden loss of hearing to pay attention to what was happening around him. Even the majesty and grandeur of the Great Hall was lost on Harry.

Harry didn't want others to know of his plight. Trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, Harry pretended to scratch his hair as he pressed the power button on his left and best hearing aid, the one that he used the most. He listened intently. But all he could hear was the noise of fake sounds. The same faint echoes that his mind conjured up when he had his hearing aids out and he was listening intently. Soft make-believe sounds that almost tricked him into believing that he had heard something.

Harry then tried the other hearing aid. Again nothing happened. His heartbeat started to hammer away, at contrast with the overbearing silence. Thinking what to do next he remembered the packet of hearing aid batteries that he always carried around with him in the pocket of his trousers. With the skill of a pickpocket he stealthily took out the batteries and palmed his left hearing aid; out popped a new battery, and Harry opened the battery holder under the cover of his hand. He cast a quick glance downwards. Odd. If the battery was dead yellow-brown battery fluid usually leaked out, but it was crystal clean. He inserted the new battery anyway and as he pretended to itch his scalp he replaced the hearing aid on his ear and switched it on.

Nothing happened. Harry didn't bother trying to change the battery of his weaker right ear. It had to be something else, especially as both hearing aids had stopped working at the same time. That had never happened to Harry before.

Normally, Harry enjoyed the silence. He would go whole weekends without wearing his hearing aids, as it meant that he didn't have to listen to the Dursley's, or the Television and radio, which were annoying because he didn't understand what they were saying. He enjoyed the silence offered serenity and introspection.

But now, in this unfamiliar environment, and unable to hear Harry felt naked.

Harry looked up, taking stock of his surroundings. An old, white-bearded wizard had just sat down, and the whole school was looking at grubby, filthy black hat at the front. Harry watched with them, and a mouth appeared suddenly just above the brim of the hat. Harry could see that the mouth was like a human's and he was sure that he would have been able to lipread what it was saying if it wasn't that he was too far away. Well, and also that he didn't know what the hat was talking about. And, come to think of it, that both the outside and the inside of the hat's mouth was black, making it tough to make out the lips.

Harry waited patiently, silently resenting his lack of inclusion at what was going on. He was puzzled by what had happened to his hearing aid. Before it had only stopped working when it ran out of battery or when it got wet and it short-circuited. What had happened?

The line of first years started to thin, as students walked up to the black hat, put it on, and then went to sit down at one of the four large tables in the room. Ahh, this was the sorting process that Ron had told him about realized Harry.

Harry palpitated. He knew that it would be his turn soon - but how was he going to know when it was his turn to step forward? Then he felt a nudge in his back, he turned and it was Ron who was saying 'go on Harry'.

Harry made his way to the front of the Great Hall. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. The next moment he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult."

It was an explosion of clarity to Harry - he had gone from anxious silence to crystal understanding. Harry reflected on how easy it was to understand the hat - and he didn't even need to lipread! "That's what it must be like to be hearing" thought Harry with a tinge of envy.

"Very difficult" repeated the voice ignoring Harry's musing, "you are cunning and brave, intelligent and loyal. You would be a credit to any of the four houses."

Harry recalled what Ron had said about the houses. "Please, not Slytherin" he thought.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" replied the hat, "well, not to worry. I think that the choice is between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. You are loyal as loyal to your friends, you have an instinctive sense of fair play, and you have a deep patience for those worth your patience. You would be the best Hufflepuff in the house since the founder herself Helga Hufflepuff.'

"But on the Gryffindor side, you have so much potential to be brave and daring. You have only just begun to tap into this" the hat mused, "this is difficult - this is a choice between who you are, and what you could be. I can see that your Deafness has molded you to work hard to understand things, to highly value your scarce friendships as precious, and to be patient to others in a way that you would want them to be patient to you."

"And yet you have so much potential to be brave and adventurous" the hat continued and Harry recalled how he had stood up to Malfoy on the Hogwart's Express.

"The choice is so finely balanced … that you should choose Harry" said the voice.

Harry thought for a moment and then it became instantly clear what his choice should be, "I want to be in the same house as Ron Weasley" he thought, thinking of the deep loyalty for his friend.

"Well" said the Hat, "I did promise." Then out it bellowed "RON WEASLEY!"

Harry removed the hat to the stunned silence of the Great Hall (and Harry was sure it was silence). Ron made his way to the hat, and gave Harry a questioning look before putting it on.

Almost instantly the hat shouted "Gryffindor with Harry Potter". Harry, being so close to the hat, could feel the vibrations of the hat's voice through the stone floor and then the eruption of cheers from the Gryffindor table.

Harry saw Hagrid standing on his feet clapping too and broadcasting a wide, approving smile. Together Harry and Ron walked to the Gryffindor table, and Harry smiled inwardly at the irony that he had used Hufflepuff values to be put in Gryffindor.

As Harry sat down with Ron, Harry returned the clamoring handshakes and just smiles in reply to the buzz of questions. When everyone's attention refocused back on the sorting hat Harry whispered to Ron that his hearing aids had stopped working. Since Harry didn't know how loud he was talking and wanted to keep what he was saying secret he made the mistake of speaking too quietly. Ron had to ask Harry to speak louder four times before he could hear.

Harry lipread Ron say, "that's terrible. You should go to Dumbledore and ask for his help. I'm sure the headmaster can help you."

"I'll ask him after dinner" said Ron, distracted by the food that just appeared in front of them. Despite the delicious food the dinner dragged on for an age for Harry. He squirmed his way through by smiling and nodding at anyone who engaged him in conversation.

Finally - satisfied - Ron put down his fork and got up and walked up to the staff table. Harry could see Ron talking to McGonegal, and then the two of them talking around the old wizard - ah, so that's the headmaster though Harry.

As everyone trooped off to bed, Ron escorted Harry to the staff table, and Dumbledore gave him a sad, soft smile. He beckoned Harry to follow, and they walked silently through windy, confusing corridors, until they came across a stone gargoyle statue.

Harry jumped when the statue leapt aside to reveal a slowly ascending circular staircase. As they reached the top of the stairs Dumbledore opened an oaken double door. Harry entered to see a room containing a vast number of portraits of past headmasters; many spindly tables with intricate silvery devices upon them; and the Sorting Hat resting on a shelf, somehow it had already been transported to Dumbledore's office; and there was a brilliant red bird perched in a open, golden cage, pecking at its plumage.

Harry gazed around spellbound by the magic and the unexplained peculiarities that overwhelmed him.

He took Dumbledore's hand signal to sit down in one of the chairs and he found that he could suddenly hear again.

"There. Is that better? Can you hear me now?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes. Thank you sir" replied Harry, "how did you fix my hearing aid?"

"I'm so sorry Harry. I should have foreseen this" apologised Dumbledore, "Ron reminded me that muggle technology doesn't work in Hogwarts - his father Arthur must have told him. There are protection charms at Hogwarts so that nothing electronic can work here. I should have foreseen that this would mean that your hearing aid would stop working."

"So what I've done is put a shield charm around it" said Dumbledore, "that protects your hearing aid from Hogwart's charms. It also means that your hearing aid is protected. If you drop it won't break."

"Thank you, sir" said Harry.

"I'm so sorry Harry" said Dumbledore sadly. "I made another graver mistake" Dumbledore paused. "I should have checked up on you Harry. I simply left you with the Dursleys and trusted that everything would be okay. If only I had checked up on you Harry … if I had I would have been able to cure your Deafness."

"Why can't you do that now?" Harry blurted out.

"Please don't get your hopes up Harry" cautioned Dumbledore, "it's complicated. If I had known when you were an infant it would have been a simple matter. The problem is that you are now 11 years old. I could heal your ear Harry, but that won't give you perfect hearing. It takes time and practice to make sense of the sounds that you hear. I could fix your ear, but you would to spend months, maybe even years learning how to hear the new sounds. And your new hearing would never be as good as normal because you have missed that crucial time as a baby for language development."

Dumbledore stopped to gaze into Harry's eyes. "Still, would you like me to fix your hearing?"

Harry thought. He knew that he should feel angry with Dumbledore for not curing him when he was younger. Didn't he resent being Deaf? Hadn't the easy conversation with the Sorting Hat given him a taste of the pleasures of the hearing world? Until minutes ago Harry had assumed that if he was offered it he would take the matrix red pill to become hearing.

Yet strangely, now that it was a real possibility Harry felt deeply resistant to the idea of becoming hearing. He was Deaf. That was who he was. He was comfortable with that, even though it was hard, and the prospect of change scared him.

If Dumbledore had offered him to full, instant hearing Harry wasn't sure what he would say. And he had been offered only a fraction of this - the prize was somewhat better hearing after lots of practice. Did he really want that?

Harry remembered that he already felt overwhelmed and daunted about learning magic. Learning how to hear at the same time seemed to be too much at the wrong time.

"I don't want that sir" Harry decided, "it would be too much for me right now. I already have so much magic to learn. It would be too hard to do that and also learn how to hear in a new way."

"Oh" said Dumbledore in surprise - both at Harry's choice and the maturity in his answer. "Well, is there anything that I can do for you Harry?"

"Hmmm" thought Harry, "could you make my ear moulds fit my ear sir? I want them to stop whistling".

"Certainly Harry" and with a wave of his wand Dumbledore made Harry's ear moulds expand to fit snugly in his ear. "I've also cast a silencing charm so that they won't whistle again."

"Thank you sir" said Harry gratefully.

"Harry" intoned Dumbledore seriously, "I can never right my failure to check up on you - but I want you to know that we are here for you Harry. There are people that care about you here at Hogwarts. You have Ron. What happened with the sorting hat was remarkable and it's clear you already have a lifelong friend."

"Hagrid has even shaved his beard off for you" Dumbledore joked, "I doubt he would do that for me even if I offered him a dragon's egg. And I'm here for you too Harry. Please come and find me at my office if you ever need anything. The password to get past the stone statue is 'melty chews'."

Dumbledore's eyes misted a little and Harry again felt the total acceptance that he had experienced earlier that day in the train carriage with Ron.

"Well" Dumbledore said, "I'm sure you are tired Harry. I think it's time for bed. I'll escort you up to your common room."

When the word 'bed' passed Dumbledore's lips Harry suddenly felt exhausted. The day had been long and nerve-wracking. The effort of lipreading Ron for hours on the Hogwart's Express, and the anxiety about not being able to hear, had totally exhausted him.

Harry followed Dumbledore, paying little attention to the corridors, portraits, ghosts, and doors that blurred past them. In what seemed an age Harry arrived at the Gryffindor common room, he stumbled in and somehow he managed to find his way to his new bed, collapse, and fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. With his clothes still on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**

If sign language is interesting to you, I made a youtube video '20 different ways to sign - I love you'. Last time I checked it had 220,000+ views. Here's the link: /11HqlCv

Onwards with the story.

Book 1, Chapter 8 - The Potions Master

[Harry is taking his first class in Potions.]

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," Snape began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"This" Snape said bringing out a small vial, "is the Eavesdrop potion."

"Does anyone know why?" he asked rhetorically ignoring Hermione's outstretched arm. "Because it gives the user an acute sense of hearing. They can hear the tiniest of sounds, and the minutest of whispers."

"And I make sure that I take some before every class" he finished flashing a nasty grin.

"I'll give this vial to someone who can show that they are not a dunderhead, and can answer three of my questions."

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Errr … sorry, sir. I didn't hear your question. Can you say it again?" asked Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Ah, we all know about your condition."

Harry disliked the Snape's emphasis on condition, but then Snape repeated the question.

"Oh" said Harry who had spent the summer reading his textbooks and remembered this from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, "it makes the Draught of Living Death."

Snape flashed Harry a look of disgust. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" he snapped.

'What's a peeshure?' thought Harry, momentarily confused. Oh, he said bezore!

"Sir, it's a stone taken from the stomach of a goat" Harry said confidently. He was grateful for all the time that he had spent testing himself on what he had learned over the summer.

Snape faced turned from disgust to pure loathing.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry heard the question, but couldn't think of the answer. He stalled for time, "Sir, can you say that again please. I didn't hear the question".

As Snape repeated himself Harry thought furiously - what was the difference? He looked at Snape's confident face and realized that the potions master didn't expect him to get the answer. Why? Was the question not in the textbook? That's not fair. Or … he had a flash of insight, was is it a trick question!?

"They are the same plant, Sir" answered Harry with a smug smile.

Snape face twitched involuntarily and was spasming with rage. He marched over and without a word of congratulations thumped the vial onto Harry's desk.

"Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" he snapped viciously to the rest of the class.

Harry pocketed his prize, but he wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't share his friend's enthusiasm for his victory - if he took it would it tempt him to take up Dumbeldore's offer to make him hearing? And why did Snape hate him so much? His thoughts whirled as his classmates busied themselves with making notes under the vicious gaze of the potions master.

[Harry and Ron are in Hagrid's hut.]

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Harry couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet his eyes when he said that.

"Oh that reminds me" Hagrid said. "I got these books that I wanted to show you."

Hagrid proudly brought a pile of books down from a shelf and placed them on top of a piece of paper that was lying on the table. _Deafness for Dummies. How to communicate with the Deaf 101. The Deaf Life: What you need to know._

Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose, but he was intrigued.

"I found these in a muggle shop. Had a bit of trouble getting them - they wouldn't accept my sickles. I thought I would do a little reading" explained Hagrid, his bare face blushing red. "I've just got to the bit about where I shouldn't exaggerate my lips." And he moved his lips to demonstrate. "Cos that aren't helpful..."

Harry felt a swell of gratitude and pride. "Thank you Hagrid. This means so much to me."

And Harry's heart skipped another step when Ron asked, "can I borrow one of these books? I think I should do some reading as well."

The rest of the visit was spent talking about what it was like for Harry to be Deaf. As Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, their pockets weighed down with rock cakes they'd been too polite to refuse, Harry thought that none of the lessons he'd had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. How could he repay the kindness and loyalty of his friends?


End file.
